12 Wounds

Zhao Baozhu bent deeply forward, his cheeks flushed crimson, silently scolding himself for being so weak-willed—why did he always blush so badly whenever he saw this young master? The last time he saw him, his heart had raced fiercely as well. It must be that this young master exuded an overwhelming noble aura, his entire presence extraordinary, which stunned someone like him, raised in a small mountain village with no worldly experience.

Taking two deep breaths, Zhao Baozhu had just steeled himself to raise his head when he heard the young master say, “Come closer.”

Zhao Baozhu’s breath hitched, caught awkwardly between rising and falling, his face growing even redder. Helpless, he lowered his head and slowly stepped forward until he stood before Ye Jinghua, his gaze fixed on the intricately embroidered cloud-patterned boots on the man’s feet.

“Baozhu is shy!” came a sharp voice, whether from Ye Ning or Ye Miao, the two girls giggling merrily.

Zhao Baozhu felt the gazes on him shift away, replaced by a cool, clear voice addressing Ye Ning and Ye Miao: “You two return to the main house first.”

The two young ladies replied in chorus and scampered off, one of them reaching back to tug lightly at Zhao Baozhu’s finger just before leaving—a mischievous little sprite.

Once their footsteps faded, Zhao Baozhu sensed the gaze return to him. The man’s voice came from above his head: “Raise your head.”

Biting his lower lip, feeling the heat on his face ebb slightly, Zhao Baozhu finally lifted his eyes. The moment he did, he met a pair of finely shaped eyes, the upper eyelids gently drooping with shallow folds, the lashes half-shadowing the gaze. Under the sunlight, he now clearly saw that this Young Master Ye’s irises were somewhat lighter than usual, resembling a precious gemstone.

At that moment, those eyes held a faint warmth as they rested on Zhao Baozhu’s face. After slowly surveying him, the voice softened: “Long time no see. Are you the one in charge of cleaning this garden?”

Zhao Baozhu was a beat slow to respond but quickly answered, “Yes.” He turned slightly, gesturing to the courtyard behind him. “Young Master, please inspect. I have cleaned this courtyard thoroughly, inside and out.”

Ye Jinghua glanced up, surveying the courtyard briefly, then murmured an approving “Hm,” his gaze returning to Zhao Baozhu’s face. “Did Fang Qin assign you here?”

Zhao Baozhu was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. “Yes, Brother Qin arranged it.”

Ye Jinghua’s lashes fluttered; his expression remained indifferent as he lightly nodded.

Zhao Baozhu blinked at him, then cautiously inquired, “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” Ye Jinghua denied softly, then lifted his gaze to Zhao Baozhu’s forehead. “Has your wound healed?”

Zhao Baozhu was startled—he hadn’t expected Ye Jinghua to remember that. “It healed long ago.”

In the next instant, Ye Jinghua reached out and gently brushed the hair from Zhao Baozhu’s forehead, revealing a pale scar beneath. His brow furrowed slightly. The movement was swift; before Zhao Baozhu could fully register his surprise, Ye Jinghua withdrew his hand.

“Why is there still a scar?” he asked, looking at Zhao Baozhu. “Did the doctor’s medicine not work well?”

Surprised by the sudden gesture, Zhao Baozhu hesitated for a moment but, being a scholar at heart even if currently a servant, he quickly dismissed his astonishment and replied naturally, “The doctor’s medicine was very good. I applied it for several days until the wound scabbed over, then stopped.”

---

Zhao Baozhu had grown up struggling in a mountain valley, never pampered, and felt that as a grown man, it was unbecoming to fuss over wounds like a girl. Once the wound was mostly healed, he stopped applying the medicine, thinking he could save the rest for future injuries.

However, upon hearing this, Ye Jinghua’s brow visibly tightened, a faint crease appearing between his brows. His face grew cold, and those pale eyes turned icy and serious. Zhao Baozhu flinched slightly, blinking and whispering, “S-shall I continue applying the medicine?”

Ye Jinghua’s expression eased somewhat as he nodded. “If the doctor’s medicine is good, then keep using it.”

Zhao Baozhu obediently nodded, though inwardly he thought that this noble young master must be especially fastidious—if he demanded spotless purity, he couldn’t even bear to see a scar on those beneath him. Zhao Baozhu recalled the village elders’ words from his childhood about the capital’s aristocrats: when choosing a palace consort, every inch of the body was scrutinized to ensure no scars or blemishes. Now it seemed those words weren’t mere superstition. If a rich inn-owning young master was so exacting, the imperial palace must be even more stringent.

As he pondered this quietly, he looked up to find Ye Jinghua watching him with a slight smile curling his lips.

The smile startled Zhao Baozhu, making his heart race and a sudden sense of guilt rise within him. He felt as if Ye Jinghua could see through his thoughts. Before he could grow embarrassed, Ye Jinghua lowered his gaze, the smile fading, and softly said, “Don’t worry about the medicine. When you finish it, just ask Fang Qin for more.”

Zhao Baozhu hadn’t expected the young master to anticipate even this and blushed, replying timidly, “Understood.”

Seeing his compliance, Ye Jinghua nodded as if finally satisfied. “It’s noon. You should go eat now.”

Zhao Baozhu answered “Yes” and turned to leave through the small gate on the west side of the courtyard. Suddenly, Ye Jinghua’s gaze sharpened and he called out, “Wait.”

Zhao Baozhu stopped abruptly and looked back. The young master frowned, staring at a patch of skin on his face. “What’s wrong with your face?”

Zhao Baozhu was surprised, then reached up to touch it. On the highest point of his cheekbone, the skin was rougher and slightly warm to the touch. Realizing, he felt a bit embarrassed. “The sun’s been strong these past few days. I got a bit overexposed.”

Spring in the capital had brought several days of intense sun. Zhao Baozhu’s hometown was typically rainy, so his skin was fair and delicate, not accustomed to such exposure. There was little shade in the courtyard, leaving his cheekbone red and raw. When his face was flushed earlier, it wasn’t so obvious, but now that the redness faded, the rough patch stood out prominently.

Ye Jinghua frowned for a long moment. Zhao Baozhu looked at him puzzled. After a while, the young master waved his hand, saying, “Go eat first.”

Zhao Baozhu nodded dumbly and passed through the small gate toward the back courtyard. Only when he was far away did he glance back, rubbing the back of his neck. He wondered if all wealthy young masters in the capital were like this, or if Ye Jinghua was particularly inscrutable.

The thoughts of the privileged are truly hard to fathom!

---

Zhao Baozhu didn’t dwell on the matter and soon put it out of his mind. The next day, during breakfast, Steward Li came to find him, followed by two young servants, each carrying something.

With a half-eaten bun still in his mouth, Zhao Baozhu was roughly pulled up from his chair. Steward Li grabbed his sleeve, scrutinizing his face with concern and repeatedly sighing, “Look at your face, sunburned to a fault! You poor child, you never think to avoid the sun and just bake yourself under it.”

Zhao Baozhu blinked and swallowed the bun in one gulp. “Steward Li, why are you here?”

Li scolded him with a glance. “I came to bring good news about you, you troublesome rascal!” Then he called the two servants forward. Only then did Zhao Baozhu notice one held a moon-white undergarment embroidered with goose-yellow patterns, the other carried a jade token engraved clearly with the name “Baozhu.”

Looking at the items, Zhao Baozhu was surprised. “Steward Li, what are these—?”

“They’re all yours,” Steward Li said with a broad smile. “The young master said that from now on you’ll serve in the study, so you won’t have to stand baking under the sun anymore!”

Zhao Baozhu’s eyes widened. “The study? There’s a study in this inn?”

“Serving the young master, of course you need proper attire,” Steward Li said, handing over the clothes and jade token, then nudging him toward the inner rooms. “Go change quickly. The young master is waiting for you up front.”

Zhao Baozhu took the garments, his attention immediately caught by the cool, smooth feel of the jade token. He looked down at the finely crafted piece, its luster warm and delicate, clearly valuable.

His heart skipped a beat; he hurriedly pushed the jade token back to Steward Li. “This is too precious—I can’t accept it.”

But Li seemed to have anticipated this. He dodged aside, exclaiming, “Take it! If you refuse, how will I explain to the young master?” Zhao Baozhu froze, holding the token unsure whether to accept or refuse. Seeing his hesitation, Li whispered, “And it’s not given to you outright. When you leave the mansion or find another place, you’ll have to return it.”

Hearing this, Zhao Baozhu breathed a great sigh of relief. No matter how the spring examinations went, he would eventually leave. Returning these items would be no trouble. Carefully, he pocketed the jade token and resolved to protect it from damage. He then examined the clothing closely, frowning as he looked up at Steward Li hesitantly.

“This outfit… isn’t it a bit too feminine?”

Holding the garment delicately, Zhao Baozhu noted the silky, slightly cool fabric was far finer than his current rough hemp shirt. But the design was too intricate, embroidered with goose-yellow thread. Though cut in a male style, it looked more like something a young girl would wear.

“You really are something,” Li said with a sharp glance, pushing him toward the inner chambers. “Where’s it feminine? Everyone serving in the front courtyard wears the same style. Now hurry up and change—don’t keep the young master waiting!”

Zhao Baozhu had no choice and didn’t want to offend an elder, so he took the clothes inside to change. When he emerged, Steward Li examined him from head to toe, praising him repeatedly, “Looking good!” Then he personally tied the jade token at his waist and declared, “Now you’re properly dressed!”

Following this, Zhao Baozhu hurried with Steward Li toward the front courtyard. Passing the Ruilai Courtyard, Li suddenly stopped and said, “From now on, you’ll live here.”

Startled, Zhao Baozhu instinctively asked, “Here? Isn’t this courtyard for guests?”

Li was taken aback. “What guests?” Then after a moment’s thought, “You mean Miss Ye Ning and Miss Ye Miao? They never stay overnight.”

Seeing Zhao Baozhu’s confused expression, Li explained, “If other guests come, there are dedicated guest rooms in the front courtyard.”

I see. Zhao Baozhu relaxed, assuming the courtyard had been unused. Yet he soon wondered about Young Master Ye’s business acumen—such a large courtyard left idle, perhaps due to insufficient guests? A vast estate-like inn like this must not make much profit annually.